


Therapy

by duointherain



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M, Recovery, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 20:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20936114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duointherain/pseuds/duointherain
Summary: Duo struggles to be okay after the wars. Heero comes to help, but doesn't really know how.





	Therapy

Therapy  
by Duointherain

disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing 

Notes: It’s gonna be 1x2x1, but that’s my bread and butter :) 

“I’m not going to talk to you,” Duo said, leaning back in the chair so he could stare at the ceiling fan. 

The psychiatrist sitting chair across from him was young, fluffy dark hair, with big brown eyes, and maybe a touch of hero worship. “Why not?”

Duo sighed, rattled the handcuffs holding him to the chair, which wasn’t even bolted to the floor. “Why should I? If I do, it’s just going to hurt and make me more fucked up than I am. In ten hours, the hold will expire. You guys are all fucked up anyway. You don’t even know what you’re doing.” 

“So we’re not the biggest hospital, but I really want to help you.”

He shifted up in the chair, smirked. “You could give me a cigarette.” 

“Those are bad for you and you’re sixteen. Even if you weren’t my patient, that would be illegal.”

Duo sighed and sprawled back in the chair. “You’re really new at this, right?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “We’re not here to talk about my CV.” 

“Why not? Mine seems to be pretty interesting to you all. There I was, minding my own business....” 

“Duo. You refused to come down off the bridge for three days.” 

“I was thinking,” he said solemnly. 

“What were you thinking about?”

“The futility of war. The horror of poverty. The dead that ain’t coming back.” He managed to stretch out, long skinny legs, braid almost brushing the floor when he leaned his head back. “The world isn’t fair.” He sat back up, jerked his wrists against the slender metal cuffs holding his wrists to the armrests. “Why are you spending time on me? Don’t you have some innocent good people to try to help?”

“You’re innocent, Duo. You’re a good person.” She smiled. 

He arched an eyebrow, kind of chewing on nothing, nose wrinkling. “I’m the fucking god of death.” 

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“Sure I do,” Duo said, slumping back down into the cheap, worn chair, wrists hanging from the cuffs. “Why you think I was on that bridge?”

She ‘um’ed, shrugging very slightly. “Why don’t you tell me?”

He sneered, jerked against the cuffs, which broke one of the chair arms, though he leaned forward as if he hadn’t just broken their chair. “Because I’m a worthless piece of shit that gets everyone I care about killed. I should have died a long time ago. No good is going to come from me bumming around letting Quatre pay my bills.” 

She’d gone just a bit pale when the chair broke, but did her best not to let it show. “You’re angry at the people who hurt you?” 

Duo leaned back, defeated, gray again. He came forward again, both hands trying to fix the broken chair. He managed to bend it back into place, mostly, then put his hand back into the other cuff as if he hadn’t pulled his hand out to begin with. “Just fucking cut to the chase? Do you have something that will make me not have this raging hole in my soul or not?” 

“You’re not a computer. I can’t just update your operating system, Duo. Therapy takes time. I can help you. We can ease the pain.” 

“I just don’t really believe you. I mean, I think you mean it and you really believe you, but I think you got a bigger problem in me than you think you do.” 

“You’re a hurting 16-year-old boy. Whatever happened to you, we can work through it. I promise.” 

“Do you even know who I am? I’m not a child.”

“I know you were one of the five Gundam pilots from the colonies. I know you had to fight. I know that there was a lot of poverty in your life, but that you’re very talented, smart, and able.”

“Yeah? I once strangled a man with his own underwear. Boy was he surprised.” 

Her face lightened a bit more. “How did you get his underwear?”

Duo shrugged. “He thought I was a kid and he was going to have some fun.” 

“You were defending yourself.” 

“I didn’t have to kill him, but,” Duo shrugged, “Thems the rules. You see me; you die. Though it’s not like that now. I ain’t killed nobody in months. So like, I ain’t gonna kill you.” 

“I appreciate that,” she said, forcing herself to take a deep breath. “If you promise me that you won’t kill yourself or anyone else, and that you will come back and see me every week for at least six months, I’ll sign your release papers.” 

“I ain’t got nowhere to go,” Duo said. 

“That’s objectively false. Your friends Quatre and Heero both have offered you a place in their home. The colony has approved you for temporary disability and you can have an apartment of your choice for up to five years. You are wanted and respected, Duo.” 

“People are stupid. That’s not my fault. There’s no where I want to go and you have food and ice cream here. I think I’ll stay. I’ll try not to break any more chairs.”

“But you feel safe here?”

“Yeah,” Duo said shrugging. “Maybe we can talk some more tomorrow?”

“Of course,” she said. “I’ll write an order to discontinue restraints. They’re not effective anyway.”

Duo grunted. “They make other people feel safe.”

“No one is afraid of you here.”

“Did I mention people are stupid?”

“People aren’t as stupid as you think, even if they’re not as smart as you are. Being extra smart doesn’t make you not stupid sometimes, either.” 

Smirking, Duo grinned. “Did I get on your nerves?”

“That’s not relevant, but if it were, I’d say it wasn’t you. We just had a new patient check himself in.”

“Busy place. He can’t have my dinner.” 

“No one will take your food, Duo. But I think you know him.” 

Duo racked his mind, thinking who he might know who was in this godforsaken part L2 and in need of shity mental health services. “Uh?”  
“Heero Yuy just checked himself in and apparently threatened the receptionist to do so.”

Snickering, all teeth and grin, Duo allowed, “That sounds like him. Don’t know what the fuck he’s doing on L2. L1 or Earth both have better services.”

“Duo, we both know what he’s doing here.” 

“Maybe he’s really going to kill me this time.”

“Do you feel threatened by him?”

“No,” Duo said, slipping his hand free so he could scratch his nose. “Heero is a pacificist these days. He wouldn’t have hurt your receptionist.”

“He must care about you a lot.” 

“Heero does Heero. I ain’t going to his fucking wedding.”

“We’re going to talk about that tomorrow.”

“The fuck we are.”

She smirked. “Go see your friend. Show him around the cafeteria.” 

“Brownies for the win!” Duo said, hopping up and dropping both sets of handcuffs on her desk. “Those could hurt someone, you know. You should probably write a grant and ask Quatre for some better restraints.”

“Have you ever considered being a doctor?”

“Who the hell is going to let me be a doctor? Doctors are good people.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Duo gave her a mock salute before shoving his hands into his pockets and ambling out the door. Some part of him was all awake now though, that Heero was here. Even if he couldn’t keep Heero, at least he could see him for a little while. He had a spring in his step and he did notice that he didn't actually want to die at that moment.


End file.
